


The Rider Of Dystopia

by FXCF



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-07-10 03:46:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FXCF/pseuds/FXCF
Summary: When Nixullium killed his father, all he wanted to do was lay down and rot for the rest of eternity. To let his citizens, brothers and sisters in arms, and lovers to rest in peace. But Arceus had to fuck it all up. Now, Nixullium wants revenge. How is he going to do that? Simple. He's going to become a myth, a myth to make them understand. He might as well save this city while he's at it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Why Do I Torture Myself Like This?**

**All Images Used Will Be From My DA (Link Is On My Page!) ((Unless I Use Other Ones, Then I’ll Credit The Artist!))**

**Warning, this story (Particularly this chapter) will contain brutal slaughter, mentions of rape, domestic abuse, and child abuse. If these things bother you, I will not hold it against you for not reading this. But, this story will also contain fluff, cute smol pokemon, and minor humor.**

**_Enjoy._ **

* * *

 

The cold, snow covered streets were calm, only disturbed by a Alolan Ninetails. She, like most pokemon in the current age, was bipedal. Wearing a dark blue sweater and black pants, she carried a bag of groceries in one hand, and her daughter in the other. She was a good six feet tall, with dark red eyes, and her white hair tied up into a ponytail. Seeing as she was a ice type, she had no need for bulky clothing, but she still wrapped her vulpix daughter up in a light blue blanket. Her daughter was only two years old. _‘She looks just like me..’_ The Ninetails thought to herself.

_Clang._

Her head shot to her right, the sound of metal hitting metal rang out. From an alleyway came five human men, all wearing ragged and torn clothes. One held a red metal gas can and a box of matches. Her eyes widened as she began to run, but was stopped by another human standing in front of her. This one was easily Six foot eight. He grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back, dropping her groceries but holding onto her pup. She hit the ground head first, dazing her. Before her vision righted, a horrible smelling liquid was poured onto her. _‘Gas!’_ She shouted to herself. The human with the gas can stood over her, lit match in hand.

“Allright missy,” He said, “Give us everything you got, and I won’t light you up, alright?” She nodded quickly. She shakely reached into her pocket, pulling out a small black wallet. The tall human grabbed it from her, looking into it.

“... Nothing. No money, no cards, just pictures of her little brat.” He grumbled out.

“I-I spent it all on groceries!” She quickly spat out, her heart rate increasing drastically. One of the, now that she had counted, seven humans grabbed her by the collar, dragging into a sitting position. Another one, who had a large beard, grabbed her pup out of her arms.

“Aaww, such a cute little shit, huh?” He said to the others, some of them chuckling.

“How bout’ we cook her up, and force six-tits over here to eat her up?” One of the other men said. She gasped.

“Please, No!” She begged. The tall one sighed.

“No. Let’s just burn them.” The one holding her pup threw her back onto her mother’s lap, where she was wrapped up into her tight embrace. The one with the matches struck one ablaze, and tossed it at her. She closed her eyes.

 

The fire never came. The match was just, gone. Then, they heard it. The sound of crunching snow. She opened her eyes. In Front of her was a five foot nine human male wearing a black jacket with a canine skull on the back, a pair of torn purple skinny jeans, and black combat boots. He held the match in his blood stained hands, wrapped up in dirty and blood soaked medical gauze. His nails were black and cracked, also blood stained. His left hand, the one holding the match, was clad with a blood soaked, rusted gauntlet with a purple feline shaped skull gem in the back of the hand. She could tell it used to be gold. The match then just, went out. No wind, no breath, just, flicker and fade.

“Who the hell is this asshole?” The one holding the gas asked the Tall guy, who shrugged.

“Hey, get on out of here. She's our prey!” The tall one shouted at him. The strange boy barely lifted his hood covered head, and a small huff of breath could be seen and heard. “Hey, didn't you hear me? Fuck Off right no-” He was cut short by a flaming axe wrapped in barbed wire digging itself into his skull. With a short tug, he fell off the axe, head split wide open.

“Holy Shit!” The guy with the gas can shouted, dropping everything to turn and run. The boy grabbed him by the side of his hair, axe raised high. It cleaved him right in half, from the crown of his head down to his knickers. The others took this opportunity to run, but were cut off as he somehow appeared right in front of them. One grabbed a rock from the floor and swung it at his head, but the rock shattered on impact. The boy just dusted his hood off, and punched a hole right through the guy’s chest, blowing out his heart on impact. He fell, just as another pulled out a gun. The pistol let out three distinctive shots, blasting small holes through him. The boy just looked down at the holes, no blood leaking from them. All they did was tear through his shirt, but did not go through his rotten grey skin. He looked back up at the shooter, and chuckled. Suddenly, the shooter’s head was blasted off as the boy moved at imposible speeds, punching him.

There was only three left. One of them pulled a metal pipe off one of the nearby buildings, letting out a battle cry as he charged. The pipe made contact the boy’s head, but was snapped in half. Just as quick as before, the man was sliced in half by the axe, this time by the waist. As his upper half fell down, screaming, the boy raised his foot, and crushed his head into a fine red paste. The last two were looking around for anything that could help them.

“Fuck This!” One yelled, picking up the dead shooters gun and shooting himself. The last guy tried to run, but was grabbed by the neck. In a last ditch effort to do something, he pulled back the boy’s hood. Under it was a mess of titanium white hair, going down to the bottom of his neck. Pure black expanded from his eyes, pitch black pools with gold irises.

“Wh-What the hell are you?!” The last man shouted. The boy smiled.

“ ** _I’M YOUR WORST FUCKING NIGHTMARE.”_** His booming voice echoed loud, his smile growing larger, revealing his razor sharp teeth. He stared straight into the last man’s eyes, before his entire body was turned into black ash.

He looked down at the ninetails mother, trembling in fear. Her pup was crying. He shuffled over to them. He crouched down, and rested his hand on the infant’s head. Instantly, she calmed down. He stood up, but not before giving the mother her wallet and groceries, perfectly untouched, and walked away. In a flash of green fire, he was gone. She looked around, before getting back up. Her pants were wet, not just from the snow, and her heart finally went back down. Grabbing her phone from the wallet, she hastily called 911.

* * *

 

**_What do you guys think?_ **

**_Please give criticism in the comments below, it’s really appreciated._ **


	2. Chapter 2

**_So, some of this story was inspired by one of my failed stories. It was about a Mafia made of legendaires, led by Arceus and Nixuliium. (Note, Nixullium [Two L’s] and Nixuliium [Two L’s] are different characters. Nixuliium is a Gary Stu, while Nixullium earned (And Will Earn) his power through pain and hardships._ **

**_R &R, please._ **

**_\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ **

The police weren't expecting this. When the panicked ninetails, Kuthia, had called and told them that their had been a massacre on the streets, they thought she was over exaggerating. Gang fights were common in that area, but she said that it wasn't a gang who killed them. When they got to the scene, they were shocked at what they saw.

“Ho-ly shit…” One cop mumbled. Kuthia was sitting down on a bench, covered with a blanket. Her eyes were wide with shock. She was clutching her sleeping daughter tight. She was in the middle of being questioned by reporter who had gotten there before the police.

“... He just, appeared. No words, no sounds, just, there.” She said in a dazed voice. A female zoroark dressed in a large brown overcoat and black dress pants walked up to them.

“Ma’am, please leave. I have to get a statement from the witness.” She said professionally.

“Oh, of course Miss Zoulca.  _ Jim, shut the fucking cam off!” _ She whisper-yelled to her cameraman, who instantly started to back away from Zoulca in fear, along with the reporter. Zoulca crouched down to look Kuthia in the eyes.

“Hello, ma’am. I need you to come with me down to the station.” She said in a soft voice. Kuthia looked at her with some fear in her eyes.

“O-ok.” She said reluctantly. Zoulca helped her up and over to her police cruiser, handing her a cup of coffee.

“Careful, it's hot.” She joked, but the ninetails stayed quiet, taking small sips from the cup. Zoulca took a short look at Kuthia’s daughter, smiling.

“She’s pretty cute.” She said, trying to start up some small talk. Kuthia was still quiet, eyes rarely blinking. Zoulca sighed, starting up the engine. The drive was long, and the absolute silence was making things awkward. “So, what did the killer look like?” She decided to ask, anything to keep her awake. Kuthia looked up.

“He was tall, around five foot ten. Wore a black jacket, purple jeans, and boots. The most striking thing about him was the gauntlet he had on his left arm. It looked like it was made of gold, but gold doesn't rust, right?” She said, voice as timid as before. Zoulca took on a thinking expression.

“What did his face look like?” She asked, and Kuthia visibly began to shake.

“His eyes were…  _ Black.  _ The only color was his irises, bright gold. And, it was like the darkness from his eyes was spreading out to the rest of his face, looking like black veins around his eyes.” She mumbled, and Zoulca took a moment to process the information she had been given. “And- his skin. It was grey, and looked dead.” Kuthia stuttered, fear coming back to her eyes. Zoulca tapped her claw against the steering wheel, unlocking the doors of the cruiser.

“Thank you, Kuthia. We’re here, by the way.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The police station was relatively large, not meant to hold that many pokemon. They had spent the last few hours sketching out what Kuthia had given them. Zoulca was in a small room with said ninetails, sitting at a wood table. When they got the sketch, they showed it to Kuthia, who nodded.

“That’s what he looked like.” She said, in a light daze. Zoulca nodded, handing the drawing to the smeargle who had drawn it, nodding to him.

“Make copies of this, put them up around the station. Tell the flareon newbie to go round’ town, put them up as well.” She ordered. The smeargle nodded, quickly rushing off to do as he was told. Zoulca then turned to the ninetails.

“Tell me, where do you live? I’ll take you home.” She offered. Kuthia hesitated, before nodding.

“I live in Sector 8, Red Zone.” She mumbled. Zoulca to a double take. Sector 8, an officer’s worst nightmare. And the Red Zone, one of the most infamous brothel in the Sectors, where pokemon disappear every damned day, and the only place humans have any control over.

“Well, lucky for you, I live there too.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Driving through Sector 8 always made Zoulca edgy. Her police cruiser was strong, the side windows were made of 1 and a 1\2 inches of reinforced bullet proof glass, and the front and back window were 3 inches of reinforced bulletproof glass, nothing could get through it. At least, anything human. The Red Zone was a small building, only two floors. The first floor was for the pole dancers and…  _ Other _ activities. The second floor was for people to rent and sleep in. To put it simply, you should never keep anything valuable in those rooms. Unless, of course, you were Zoulca. She had bought one of the rooms to keep permanently. Speaking of that room, that is where Zoulca and Kuthia were currently. Zoulca was looking through her shelf of books that she has collected over time, looking for one book in particular.

“So, why are you wanting to find this book?” Kuthia asked, feeding her daughter from a bottle of milk.

“The way you described the killer reminded me of something, an old legend.” Zoulca said back to her. “Aha!” she let out, pulling out a book wrapped in old leather. The front of the book had three skulls on it, a humans, a mew’s skull, and a skull that resembled Arceus’s head. Above it, The Tome Of Our Blood was etched into the leather itself, and it was decently thick.

“Tell me, Kuthia, do you know how we came about?” Zoulca asked her. She shook her head, and Zoulca opened the dust filled book.

“Five hundred millennia ago, the first age came about, called The Age Of Dark. Humans ruled everything, and enslaved our ancestors. They weren't bipedal like us, and wouldn’t be for three millennia. In 322 B.A.L*, Arceus brought power to a group of pokemon, a lucario, a gardevoir, and a zoroark. They went by the name ‘The Heaven’s Gate’, and laid waste to the humans. This sparked the two hundred and thirty year war, known as the Age Of Blood. After the king of humanity was killed by the group, they took over the world, putting the responsibilities of the earth in the hands of the people. Around 155 B.A.L* a serum was made to make us more bipedal, mostly to deal with the last few years of the war. After that, came the Age Of Light, and the first government was made in 1233 A.A.L*.” She lectured, flipping the page.

“But, long before The Heaven’s Gate was founded, a warrior was born of the plagues, cries of dying children, and tears of mothers lost. They called him The Fallen Angel. He was imbued with power beyond imagination, called the Umbra’s Heart. It was said that every millennium, a boy would be born of the Umbra clan, made mostly of women, who had the marks of the Dark Father, the name of the third Umbra. These took the shape of red circles on the back of the hands and back, and a large V on his chest. They would discover the Umbral gauntlet at age nineteen, which matches the gauntlet you described, and with it they would kill their father, and follow the word of Lord Arceus.” Zoulca sighed, closing the book.

“The last Umbra was seen sixteen hundred years ago, a empty burned out husk. This could mean that a Umbra survived, and that the killer could be continuing the legacy. Thing is, there is also a prophecy, but it is forbidden to talk about it.” She concluded. Kuthia looked confused, trying to digest what she just learned.

“So, why does this involve me?” She asked, putting down the bottle. Zoulca took a look out of the blinds.

“Well, the book says that whoever meets him first will meet a terrible fate, shortly after. I plan on keeping you safe.” Just as Zoulca said that, a gunshot went off from outside. Her door was kicked down, and a humanoid creature dressed in black armor pointed a LMG at them.

“Get over here, and get to the first floor!” He shouted at them, finger on the trigger.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of metal clicking would have lulled him to sleep, if he could sleep. A twinge ran through him, and he increased his grip on the humans skull, crushing it. He fell onto the pile of thirty other humans, all malformed from their fatal beating. With a flick of his armored wrist, the pile was ignited in green Hell-Fire. He mumbled something, cracking his knuckles.

“ **_Come on Z… Do I always have to save you?”_ **


	3. Chapter 3

Zoulca and Kuthia were shoved to the floor, Kuthia’s daughter not too far away, crying. There was at least sixty armed humanoids, all armed with a variety of SMGs and LMGs. only one wore no armor, but was dressed in a simple black leather trench coat, covering his legs, but she could see his boots. He was a gallade, with pure black ‘hair’, and a blue eyed glare, he stood over everyone else. His glare fell on Zoulca and Kuthia. A soldier ran over to him, saluted, then handed him the book Zoulca had.

“So, you are the one we have been searching for… Lieutenant, get Marlkos and Deimis, and get a pair of claw cuffs, and deactivators.” He then turned to Kuthia’s daughter, who was crying loudly. He mumbled to himself, before grabbing her. Kuthia tried to get up and grab her, but the sound of breaking bones stopped her. He had broken her daughter’s arm. She was screaming even louder, before he slammed her against the ground. Kuthia rushed over, fear in her eyes. Zoulca crawled over to her.

“She's alive, thank Arceus…” Zoulca muttered in relief, after checking her pulse. Kuthia shuddered, tears falling. Zoulca turned to the gallade.

“Who Are You!? What Do You Want?!” She yelled. He let out a sigh, before grabbing her by the neck.

“Silent. You shall not ask any questions, nor shall you speak. But, to let your mind rest at ease, my name is  Maléfique, and I am a slaver. You, and the rest of the tenants of this building will either be killed, or enslaved.” he said, a french like flair in his voice. Zoulca was thrown back to the ground. Slavers, people and pokemon who lived in the outer sectors of 22 all the way up to 124. The rich love them, solely to buy obedient servants. Two soldiers entered, carrying heavy black collars. Maléfique smirked.

“You know what a Disabler is, right, Madame Zoulca? It disables certain brain functions, such as speech and abilities. It also forces a feeling constant fear, making a heart attack to even think about trying to rebel. Don’t fight it.” He growled out that last part. The soldiers forced them on their necks, and they instantly fell down, their ability to breath taken away. Thankfully, it only lasted for a few seconds. Zoulca tried to curse Maléfique out, but she couldn’t let out more than a gasp. Maléfique smiled, placing something onto Zoulca’s claws. It was a pair of heavy metal gloves, which rendered her claws useless. At this point, she couldn’t even raise her head past boot level. Maléfique laughed at her attempts, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before she lost her confidence. He picked the two of them up, Kuthia barely seeing due to all of the tears. He began to drag them out of the building, along with fifteen other pokemon. People had begun to gather, fear in their eyes. You don’t fight slavers, as they could make you mince meat in seconds. A large black van drove up to them, and Maléfique shoved them in.

Inside the van was three other pokemon, two lopunny twins, and a gardevoir. They all had shocked expressions on their faces, and all had the same coller. One of the lopunny's, a shiny, raised her head to look at Zoulca, scowled, and looked away. Zoulca helped Kuthia up onto a seat, where they began to look over Kuthia's daughter’s injuries.

**_\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ **

The van raced down the streets of sector eight, blasting past a multitude of barricades.  Maléfique chuckled, using his powers to toss police cars out of the way.

“Come on, lad! Only a little farther and then the slaves in the back will become ours to own.” Maléfique said, a smile lighting up his face. If a slaver got away from the sector that he\she kidnapped someone from, an into another sector, the previous sector couldn't pursue, due to each sector having polar opposite laws. The officers are supposed to file a report to the sector the slaver escaped into, where then that sectors police force chases them down. Sadly, it never works with any sector above 4. Finally, they broke out of the giant gate that made the entrance to the city, and rode down the highway to Hell

**_\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ **

It had already become night, and the roads were empty, as usual, when the van had come across a semi truck with a large carrier. The van drove up next to it.

“Hey, open the back up, we got slaves!” Maléfique yelled at the side window, which rolled down to show a annoyed alakazam.

“How many did you get this time, Maléfique?” He said, annoyance clear in his eyes and voice. Maléfique Smirked.

“Got five this time, but you’ll love one of them. I caught myself a little zoroark.” Maléfique said, mischief eyes shifting to the back of the van. The alakazam got out and psychically opened the back of the van. His eyes widened in shock.

“No way, you got Zoulca?!” The alakazam said in shock, before letting out a stream of curses. “I was going to get her!” Maléfique laughed at the pokemon, before getting out a remote.

“Allright, soon to be slaves, get in the box!” He yelled at them, pressing a button on the remote. A electric shock was sent through them, forcing them to stand. The back of the semi opened up, revealing to them the 50 humanoid pokemon trapped in there. Gardevoirs, krilla, lopunny, lucario, delphox and braixen, any pokemon you can think of that had any drip of potential maid/whore was there. Zoulca and the others were pushed into the back, before being locked in place by a metal belt around their waist, chest, and arms. Their legs were put into metal shackles, and arms bound to their sides. The last thing they saw was the back of the truck shutting, then absolute darkness.

At least, for a moment, one of the four guards in there pulled a corde, and a single light was turned on.

Zoulca thought to herself a small prayer, and prayed.

**_\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ **

The truck had driven for three hours, only a few miles away from it’s base, before something caught the drowzee driver’s eyes. A light, just behind them. And then, they heard the roar of an engine, and the cackling laughter of the flames. Behind them was a motorcycle, a Harley Low Rider, black as the night, with chrome pipes. These pipes were spewing flames, alongside the wheels. The front was replaced by a canine skull, the eyes and nose spewing flames. It’s rider was dressed in black, but his glowing gold eyes pierced the darkness.

“What in the ever lovin’ hell is that?!” The driver yelled, waking Maléfique.

“Wha- Whozit?” He asked in a tired daze. He looked out the window and screamed.

“Who the hell is that?!” He yelled.

“I don’t know! Shoot him!” The Driver yelled back, grabbing a UZI out of a small pocket under the dash. Maléfique did the same, pulling a Deagle out of his jacket. Maléfique leaned out the window, aiming, but in a shock, found that the mystery rider had disappeared. Maléfique leaned back in, looking over to the Driver. His face was scrunched up in confusion.

“Where did he go?”

“Ah’ Dunno, wake Laker up.” The Driver responded, pointing his elbow towards the still sleeping alakazam. Before Maléfique could nuge him, a loud slam was heard, and the Rider appeared right next to the Driver’s door. He screamed, pointing the Uzi at the Rider, opening fire. The Rider grabbed his arm and snapped it on the door, making him drop the gun. He then ripped off the door, with one hand, threw it behind him, and grabbed the driver. Who knew he was so good at baseball? Maléfique probably thought to himself, as the Driver was flung behind the truck, followed by a anthem of breaking bones. The Rider slammed his bike into the side of the truck, causing it to shake. Maléfique tried to grab the wheel to stabilize it, but was too late, and the truck was flung onto its side, knocking Maléfique out.

**_\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ **

Zoulca tried to get some sleep, but the crying of the pokemon around her made it difficult. The four guards in there tried yelling at them to shut up, but it only made things worse. Soon, one of them punched a vulpix in the face, yelling at everyone to ‘shut up’. It worked. Soon, all that could be heard was quite sniffing.

Suddenly, the entire truck was sent into a spiral. The guards were flung around, but the pokemon were strapped in place. Still made them dizzy. Soon, it stopped. Upright again. The guards got up, cursing, unlocking the safeties on their guns, just in case. One went to open the double doors.

When he got to them, they were blown inwards, launching the guy backwards, and into one of his comrades. The eere light from the flames that they could now see was blinding, but the silhouette standing at the door was all too familiar. He stood, axe in hand, golden eyes glowing bright. Everyone froze, except the guards. They got up, opening fire. The Beast raised his hand, and the bullets were stopped in their tracks. He dropped his hand, and the bullets followed. The guards were starstruck, fear visible even behind the red tinted gas masked helmets that they wore. One of the guards, nearest to the door, went to grab Zoulca, but was stopped by the sudden intrusion of a fist to his face. Just like Kuthia remembered at the street, two nights ago, his entire face, and head, was wiped away. The two that were still standing raised their SMGs, prepared to open fire, but were decapitated by The Rider’s axe, both chopped clean off with one swing. The last guard on the floor, tried to raise his pistol to shoot, but was curb stomped into a red paste. The Rider looked around, his eyes barely illuminating his face. The pokemon looked at him in fear, holding each other close. He looked at Kuthia and Zoulca, and walked over.

“ **_What are the chances that I run into you two, again?”_ ** He mumbled, bearing a sharp grin. He ran a single claw over the cuffs over their bodies, and they disengaged, cut in half. He grabbed the claw cuffs Zoulca wore and carefully squeezed them, cracking them enough that the locks broke off. He helped Zoulca up, and, using two hands, tore the Disabler in half. Zoulca took a deep breath, taking a moment to find her words.

“Th-Thank you…” She didn’t know what to call him.

“ **_Get the others free. I’ll start up the engine.”_ ** He said, jumping out of the truck. Zoulca made quick work of Kuthia’s bindings, and went to work freeing the others.

**_\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ **

It wasn’t easy, but Zoulca and Kuthia managed to free all 50 Pokemon. They all hopped out of the truck, only to see The Fallen Angel standing there. He smirked, eyes covered by his hood. Next to him was Maléfique, blood flowing from his head, courtesy of the axe lodged in his head.

**_“Guessing this is yours, Zoulca?”_ **  He held up the Tome, and tossed it at Zoulca. She caught it, handling it with care.

“Thank you…” She said, grasping the book tight. He smirked, and placed his armored hand on the side of the truck.

“ **_This will help”_ ** He mumbled, and a white flame ran across the truck. It’s colors darkened into black, and the smokestacks rose and bent, letting out a billow of flames. The dents and scratches healed, and a painting of a Mew skull, painted in purple, formed on the side of the trailer. The Rider smiled, tossing a pair of keys to Zoulca.

**_“See you around, old friend.”_ ** He said, and his bike roared to life, driving up next to him. He got on, kicked the brake off, and drove off towards Sector 8, leaving a trail of white fire.

“Alright everyone, get back in! I’ll take you home.”

**_\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ **

The Rider reached under his dark grey shirt, pulling out a small pendant. He popped it open, sighing. Inside was a picture of him, his skin much more pale peach than deathly grey, hugging four pokemon. Zoulca, a lucario, a gardevoir, and Mew herself. They looked happy, the Rider smiling in the picture, with “NEVER FORGET THEM” written above them in crude, dried blood.

“ **_I’m sorry, but I’m going to fix my mistakes. Once, and for all.”_ **

**_\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ **

**_Well, these chapters are much longer than TDA:R, huh? Might as well call Idubbbz cause’ “Hey, that's Pretty Good.”_ **


End file.
